


A Lesson Learned

by GoldenVendetta



Category: Final Fantasy: Brave Exvius
Genre: Breathing Together, Don't Judge Me, Just do it already - Freeform, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Why Did I Write This?, very mild frottage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 04:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15186689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenVendetta/pseuds/GoldenVendetta
Summary: Akstar attempts to help Lasswell improve his battle stance.





	A Lesson Learned

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t stop! T_T There was a scene with the two of them training in the desert, and it got me thinking. And one thing led to another... *bangs head against a wall*

The sun was unmerciful in its intensity as it beat down upon the top of Lasswell’s head, and so was Akstar’s admonishments. The rest of the party was taking a break at the kappa village while Lasswell and Akstar ventured into the desert to do some training.

 

The ordeal seemed to be trying the older warrior’s patience, however, as he closed his one eye and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s like I’m talking to a baby! Have you heard a single word I’ve been telling you this whole time? Your battle stance is completely unbalanced and your swings lack control. Are you trying to strike your enemies or swat at flies? Did Raegen not teach you anything at all?”

 

Lasswell wiped an arm across his sweaty forehead and glowered. “Sir Raegen was an excellent teacher! He...just wasn’t there for most of my training. A lot of what I know I was taught at the academy for the Grandshelt Royal Guard. I’ll agree with you that most of their instructors were just adequate.” He hesitated, then added, “Nothing like you.” 

 

Akstar lowered his hand and regarded his student with a narrow gaze. “That doesn’t sound very flattering. Was that meant to be a compliment or something?”

 

Lasswell groaned. “Master…”  _ Why is he always so difficult to deal with? _

 

“Whatever. You’re wasting time babbling when you should be practicing. Do another set of fifteen swings.”

 

Lasswell took up his fighting position once more, gripping his father’s katana in both hands, holding it out in front of himself. He prepared to raise his arms when Akstar made a loud noise of disgust.

 

“Stop, stop! Just wait! You haven’t changed a single thing since the last time!”

 

He came around Lasswell and shoved at the young man’s shoulder. “Eyes forward,” he ordered.

 

Lasswell did as he was told, focusing on a sand dune. Then his breath hitched as his master’s hand landed against his left calf and smoothed up to his inner thigh.

 

“Widen your stance. You need a better center of gravity.”

 

Lasswell shifted his footing.

 

“Almost.” Akstar repeated his motion against his pupil’s right leg, dragging his palm in a firm press from calf to thigh. “Wider.”

 

Lasswell swallowed hard and shifted again. His focus was wavering, and not just from the sun’s heat. Hearing Akstar telling him to spread his legs, even if it were only for the sake of learning a battle stance, still caused his pulse to increase.

 

“There. Feel how your weight is being distributed?” There was a pause as his master awaited an answer. 

 

_ This  _ **_is_ ** _ supposed to be a lesson, after all _ .

 

“I feel it.” His voice came out sounding hoarse, but Lasswell hoped it would be mistaken for the need for some water. 

 

“Good. Now hold that position. You’re still not ready yet.”

 

Akstar’s hand curved around to Lasswell’s outer leg and higher. “Straighten your hips and spine. Pull your shoulders back.”

 

The young man was glad he was facing away so the look of distress that had overtaken his sweat-damp face wasn’t visible. 

 

Akstar was pressed almost flush against him, his master’s hips slotted perfectly against his backside, his chest acting like a support for Lasswell’s back and shoulders. His raspy voice was calm and quiet in his ear as his hand ran down his student’s right arm. His fingers encircled Lasswell’s wrist.

 

“Keep your arms steady. Why are you shaking?”

 

“I think the heat is getting to me,” he lied.

 

Akstar snorted, his breath disturbing some of the hair trailing down at Lasswell’s damp cheek. “Well, it’s no wonder. You’re breathing like a bellows.” His hand settled against Lasswell’s diaphragm and pushed. They had already been standing close, but now there was no space left between them. “No, you idiot! Don’t hold your breath! That’s a sure way to pass out in this heat. Try to match your breathing with mine.”

 

Akstar took a slow, deep breath and Lasswell could feel all of him, every strong, solid inch. That hand pressing into him felt as if it meant to sink inside.

 

Purple Lightning rattled as he gripped it like a lifeline. He gasped once, a harsh, desperate sound, and returned to holding his breath. He was afraid of what other wanton sounds might come pouring out if he relaxed even the slightest bit.

 

“Lasswell.  _ Breathe. _ ”

 

Not a nickname, or an insult, but his real name said low and even in his ear. The voice of command from master to student.

 

Breathe he did, matching each lungful to that of Akstar. And every inhalation rubbed and pressed their bodies against each other. That’s when he realized that each breath inward was being accompanied by an almost imperceptible nudge of Akstar’s hips against his rear.

 

_ How far will he let me take this? _

 

On their next inhalation, Lasswell pressed back into Akstar’s movement forward leaving no room for doubt that he was more than happy to receive whatever his teacher was willing to give.

 

The hand on his diaphragm tightened into a fist, the full circle of Akstar’s arm gripping around his waist as the older swordsman violently bucked against him. He heard his master make a sound as if his pleasure were a tangible thing and he’d just sank his teeth down into it. It was a noise both angry and hungry.

 

He held their lower bodies together tightly for the space of a few hammering heartbeats, both of them forgetting to breathe at all, before he abruptly released Lasswell and stepped away from him.

 

“Remember that stance,” Akstar said, and for once didn’t make eye contact with his pupil. He sounded annoyed. “Do that, and you might eventually stand a chance against Hyoh. Not a significant chance, but one where you might not die in the first round of combat.”

 

Lasswell’s arms had dropped during that whole debacle, yet he still felt strain from holding his katana for so long. And now he really  _ did _ feel overheated, both from the sun and recent events.

 

Still, the mention of Hyoh killed his libido in a quick instant. 

 

_ I suppose I should be grateful for that. _

 

“You can practice more if you want before bed once the sun goes down and it cools off,” his master was saying. “For now, let’s return to the kappa village and have something to drink.”

 

Lasswell sheathed his blade with a shake of his head. “Miraculous water?”

 

Akstar actually chuckled as he started walking away, though he didn’t appear any happier. “I don’t see why not. It goes down pretty smooth after a few cups.”

**Author's Note:**

> He claims to have killed his emotions, but Lasswell sees right through his master. Akstar just won’t allow himself to get close after having lost so much. He thinks detachment is strength. I want these two to hook up so baaad! 
> 
> Anyway, I apologize for all this nonsense. Thanks for stopping by!


End file.
